Page 31 of Roaring Fork Rooker (Roaring Fork Ranch #4)

ECHO

I sat across from my older sister, Dawn, at our favorite corner table in McGill’s. She studied me with the intensity that had driven me crazy as a child, but now felt like an interrogation.

“You’re glowing,” she said, her smile warm but searching. “I haven’t seen you this happy in…well, maybe ever.”

My hands trembled around my coffee cup as I attempted a smile. “Not for a very long time anyway.”

“JW makes you happy.”

It wasn’t a question, but I nodded anyway. “He does. More than I thought possible.”

When she reached across the table and squeezed my hand, I resisted the urge to pull away. “I’m so glad you two found your way back to each other. When you told me he’d returned, I wasn’t sure what to think. But seeing you now…”

“What?” The word came out sharper than I’d intended.

Dawn’s eyes flared. “You look like yourself again. The person you were before everything went sideways all those years ago.”

“That feels like a lifetime ago,” I murmured.

“It was.” Her tone grew more serious, and I knew what was coming. “Echo, does JW know? About what happened after he left?”

My stomach clenched. I’d been dreading the question even though I was certain it was coming.

“There’s no reason he needs to know.” The words sounded hollow even to my own ears. “That’s all in the past. The choices I made then were the best for everyone.”

Dawn studied my expression with a penetrating gaze. I looked away, unable to meet her scrutiny.

“If you’re sure,” she finally said, but doubt colored her words.

“I am. We can all continue to live our lives. What matters is what we have now.” The response tasted like ash.

Relief flickered across my sister’s face, followed by genuine excitement that made my chest ache with guilt. “Then, I’m happy for you. Truly. You deserve this, Echo. You deserve love and joy and all the good things life has to offer.”

Did I? Did I deserve happiness built on deception? The knot in my chest tightened until I could barely breathe.

“Thank you,” I managed.

Dawn launched into enthusiastic questions about the ceremony, but her words seemed to come from far away. I answered automatically, mechanically, while my mind spiraled through the same torturous loop it had been trapped in for days.

Tell him. Don’t tell him. Ruin everything. Save everyone.

“Echo?” Dawn’s words cut through my panic. “I asked about the flowers.”

“Flowers?” I blinked, trying to focus. “Oh. Yes. Flynn’s handling everything.”

Lines appeared between Dawn’s brows. “Are you feeling all right? You seem distracted.”

“Just busy.” The lies came easier now, polished by repetition. “The end of the fiscal year always brings stress.”

But even as I said it, I could see she wasn’t convinced. My sister knew me too well, had seen me through too much.

We finished breakfast without her asking any more questions, but I could feel her worried gaze following me as I left the restaurant. My hands shook as I started my car, and I had to sit for several minutes before I trusted myself to drive.

The office felt like a refuge until I realized it wasn’t. The grant applications on my desk might as well have been written in a foreign language. I read the same paragraph five times before giving up and moving to the next file.

My phone rang, startling me so badly that I knocked over my coffee mug.

“Echo West,” I answered, grabbing napkins to clean up the mess.

“Mrs. West, this is Dr. Robbins from Children’s Hospital. We discussed the Patterson family last week?”

I stared at my calendar, panic rising. The Patterson family. Eight-year-old daughter with brain cancer. I was supposed to have processed their emergency assistance request yesterday.

“Yes, of course. I’m so sorry—I’ve been reviewing their file and should have the paperwork completed by?—”

“They were discharged yesterday,” she interrupted gently. “The family was counting on our help with the hotel costs.”

The room tilted sideways. I’d forgotten. Completely forgotten a family in crisis, because I couldn’t stop obsessing over my own problems.

“I’m so sorry. Let me call them right away, and?—”

“It’s all right. We managed to find alternative funding. But, Echo, this isn’t like you.”

After I hung up, I sat staring at the phone, revulsion washing through me. This was exactly what I’d sworn would never happen. My personal life was affecting my work, and families were paying the price.

I tried to focus for the rest of the morning, but my concentration was shattered. Every phone call felt like navigating through fog. Every decision required enormous effort. By lunch, Melanie had knocked on my door three times with questions about things I was supposed to take care of.

“Echo, I think you should go home,” she said during her third visit, her tone gentle but firm. “You’re clearly not well.”

“I’m fine,” I protested, but even I could hear how unconvincing I sounded.

“When was the last time you ate? You look pale.”

I couldn’t remember eating breakfast, despite sitting through an entire meal with Dawn. My stomach felt hollow, but the thought of food made me nauseous.

“Maybe you’re right,” I admitted.

Instead of going home, I drove aimlessly through the mountains, taking back roads that led nowhere. The autumn colors that had seemed so beautiful last week had now faded into dullness.

I pulled over when my phone buzzed with a text from JW. How’s your day going? Thinking of you.

I stared at the message until the words blurred. How could I respond? That I was falling apart? That I was lying to everyone, including myself? That I was about to destroy the best thing that had ever happened to me?

Good day. See you tonight , I typed back.

That evening, I stood outside JW’s cabin for several minutes before knocking, trying to compose myself. The warm light spilling from his windows, the smoke curling from his chimney—it all looked like a promise of happiness I didn’t deserve.

“There’s my beautiful bride-to-be,” he said when he opened the door, his expression lighting up in a way that usually filled my heart.

I attempted a smile, but it felt like wearing a mask that might crack at any moment. “Hi.”

He pulled me into his arms, and for a moment, I let myself sink into his warmth. But even his embrace couldn’t quiet the chaos in my head.

“You seem tired,” he said.

“Long day at work.” Another lie. They were coming so easily now.

During dinner, I picked at the meal he’d prepared, unable to taste anything through my mounting panic. JW glanced at me with growing concern, and I could see him struggling with whether to push.

“Echo, you’ve barely touched your food.”

“I’m just not very hungry.” I made myself take a bite, though it felt like swallowing sawdust.

“Are you getting sick? You look pale.”

“I’m fine.” The sharp edge in my tone surprised us both.

JW set down his fork. “What’s really going on? And please don’t say work again. This is more than that.”

My heart pounded so hard I was sure he could hear it. “I told you, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” His words were gentle but insistent. “You’ve been distant lately. Distracted. You jump every time your phone rings, you barely eat, and you look like you haven’t slept in days.”

Because I hadn’t. Every night brought the same torment—lying awake, staring at the ceiling, rehearsing confessions I’d never have the courage to make.

“It’s just prewedding nerves,” I said weakly.

“Is it?” He leaned forward, searching my expression. “Because if you’re having second thoughts, if you don’t want to marry me?—”

“No!” The word exploded out of me. “I want to marry you more than anything. That’s the problem.”

JW’s brow furrowed. “I don’t understand.”

Neither did I. How could I explain that loving him was destroying me? That every day we spent together made the weight of my secret heavier?

“I just want everything to be perfect,” I said, hating myself for the continued deception.

But JW wasn’t buying it anymore. I could see the worry in his expression, the way he was trying to piece together whatever was happening to me.

“Echo, whatever’s troubling you, we can work through it together. You don’t have to carry it alone.”

His kindness was like salt in a wound. Here was this incredible man, offering to share my burdens, and I couldn’t even tell him what they were.

“I know,” I whispered, looking away.

The rest of the evening passed in strained silence. JW tried to engage me in conversation, but my responses were monosyllabic, distracted. I could feel him pulling back, hurt by my distance but not knowing how to bridge it.

When I left that night, his goodbye was subdued. “Get some rest,” he said, kissing my forehead.

I drove home through empty streets, tears blurring my vision. At home, I sat in my dark living room, not bothering to turn on the lights, and faced the reality I’d been avoiding.

I was destroying everything. My work was suffering. JW was suffering. I was barely holding myself together, and in five days, I was supposed to stand up in front of everyone and promise to share my life with a man I was already lying to.

The next three days blurred together in a haze of panic and artificial smiles. Flynn bustled around, making the final preparations, her excitement palpable while I moved through the motions like a ghost. During our last planning meeting, she stopped mid-sentence to stare at me.

“Echo, are you all right? You look terrible.”

“Thank you,” I said dryly, but there was no humor in it.

“I’m serious. Should we call a doctor? You might be coming down with something.”

“I’m fine. Just tired.”

“No. This isn’t excitement or nerves. Something else is going on.”

I attempted another smile. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

The lie sat heavy between us, and I could see Flynn filing away her concerns for later discussion.

The night before the ceremony, we gathered at the ranch for the rehearsal. The evening should have been joyful—family and friends coming together to celebrate love and new beginnings. Instead, I felt like I was moving through quicksand, every step requiring enormous effort.

JW barely left my side, his protective instincts clearly triggered by whatever he was seeing in my behavior. But his presence, instead of comforting me, only increased my agitation.

During the mock ceremony, when we were supposed to exchange practice vows, I froze completely. The words stuck in my throat, and I stood there, opening and closing my mouth like a fish out of water.

“It’s all right,” Flynn said quickly, covering for me. “We’ll save the real magic for tomorrow.”

But JW’s eyes never left mine, and I could see the questions there, the growing alarm.

After everyone else dispersed to their rooms or homes, JW and I lingered in the ranch house’s main room. Tomorrow, we would be married. I’d promise to love and honor and be honest with this man while keeping the biggest secret of my life from him.

“Would you like me to drive you home?” he asked carefully, like he was speaking to something fragile that might break.

“No, I can manage,” I responded, but my feet wouldn’t move.

We stood in awkward silence, and I could feel him trying to read my mood, trying to understand what was happening between us.

“Echo, whatever’s wrong, we can fix it. But you have to tell me what it is.”

The opening I’d been both longing for and dreading. My heart hammered against my ribs as I looked at him—this man who loved me, who trusted me, who deserved so much better than my lies of omission.

“JW,” I began, my words barely a whisper.

“Yes?”

The truth was right there, hovering on my lips. The revelation that would either free us or destroy us completely. My mouth opened and closed several times as I struggled to find the courage.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” I finally managed, my voice shaking. “Something I should have told you weeks ago.”

His body went very still, focused on me with an intensity that made me want to run. “What is it?”

“A few days after you left, I discovered I was pregnant—” My words broke, and I had to take a shuddering breath.

Before I could speak again, the front door burst open, interrupting my confession. Kingston walked in, followed by a woman with a bright smile, someone I hadn’t expected to see tonight.

My blood turned to ice as recognition hit. The words I’d been about to speak died in my throat, replaced by a shock so complete it left me speechless.

This couldn’t be happening. Not tonight. Not now. Not when I’d finally found the courage to tell JW the truth myself.